


Radiance and Shadow

by cuttothequickk



Series: All Things Bright and Beautiful [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coffee, Curtain Fic, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, Literal Sleeping Together, Low-Key Gray-Ace Kageyama, M/M, Making Out, Snow, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuttothequickk/pseuds/cuttothequickk
Summary: Hinata wakes up in Kageyama's bed.





	Radiance and Shadow

 

 

1.

 

Kageyama wakes up quickly, his eyes flicking open as he goes from dead asleep to wide awake in an instant. He’s not sure what woke him up, because he isn’t too hot or too cold and he’s actually very comfortable, but he’s not really drowsy so he can’t find it in him to mind, not when it’s the middle of a freezing winter in Sendai and the bed is so soft and warm. From his spot on the futon, everything looks white: there’s his white duvet covering his white futon, the gauzy white curtains hanging over a window that reveals a snow-covered city outside, the sky white-gray with clouds and saturated with big, gentle flakes of falling snow. The room is cold, even if it’s warm under the covers, and Kageyama snatches up the remote for the heating unit and clicks the red button, the machine beeping once as the vents flick open and start blowing heat into the room. As he resettles himself under the covers, he checks his phone, which tells him it’s just after 7:30 a.m. It’s a Saturday morning. Kageyama is content.

 

He turns to lie on his side and takes in the one thing breaking up the soft white of the room. Hinata’s orange hair is splayed in a halo around his head, his peach-pale skin tinted pink around the apples of his exposed cheeks. His rosy lips are parted just barely around the shape of his even breathing, and the tips of his clipped-short nails are a soft ivory where his fingers clutch the sheets. He’s wearing one of Kageyama’s shirts, a pale blue one that’s far too big for him, and his eyelids are fluttering a little bit as he dreams.

 

There’s a moment where Kageyama finds himself breathless, all the air knocked out of him with how delicate and beautiful Hinata’s tiny frame looks all curled up in Kageyama’s bed. Kageyama reaches up to stroke Hinata’s cheek, his calloused fingertips as gentle as they ever have been against a volleyball or maybe more so, although this touch isn’t something thought-out and constructed to provide a particular result the way his tosses are; there is no aim to this action beyond the intransitive need to touch, to feel, to believe.

 

Hinata is in his shirt, in his bed, in his room. Hinata is here, asleep, and so beautiful that Kageyama’s heart might burst. Fuck. He needs to shake himself out of this before he turns into an actual puddle of pine sap.

 

Kageyama rolls himself out from under the covers and stands, his bladder urging him into the bathroom before he heads to the kitchen to make coffee. He realizes he’s not sure what he’ll do with the coffee if Hinata isn’t awake yet, but by the time he’s returning to the bedroom with two mugs of steaming coffee, Hinata is mumbling and snuggling himself deeper into the white duvet, his hair the only visible part of him as he fumbles drowsy and uncoordinated but most definitely awake.

 

“Hinata?” Kageyama asks, setting the mugs down on the nightstand as he climbs back under the blanket and runs a hand down Hinata’s back. He doesn’t want to push it, because they’re taking things slow and all, but Hinata arches into the touch a little, so Kageyama thinks it’s safe to lie down behind him and press his forehead into Hinata’s spine. He runs a palm down over Hinata’s ribs, his waist, his hips, the blue fabric of Kageyama’s shirt riding up so that his hands find Hinata’s smooth skin. Hinata wiggles backwards a little, and Kageyama tugs him in against his chest, the perfect little spoon. Hinata hums out a happy noise, but Kageyama still has to confirm, like always: “Is this okay? Silence means no.” It’s good to remind Hinata that he doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to, that Kageyama will only do something if he gets a resounding “yes” or other clear affirmative. Hinata hates saying no.

 

“Yes,” Hinata says, a tiny sound issued into the warmth of the blankets covering his head. Kageyama lets his hand press a little tighter at Hinata’s hip, his palm feeling out the shape of the tiny, delicate cradle of bone stretching under warm skin.

 

“I made coffee,” Kageyama mumbles. Hinata’s hand finds Kageyama’s against his hip, tangles their fingers together and hooks their pinkies into the shape of a pinky swear, and Kageyama’s breath catches against the nape of Hinata’s neck. Kageyama presses his calf in between Hinata’s legs, just a little down at the bottom, nothing risqué because, as always, _consent_ , but then Hinata’s feet wrap around Kageyama’s ankle and there are freezing toes resting heavy against his skin. “What—dumbass!” Kageyama says, though his voice is quiet and fond. “Your toes are freezing.”

 

Hinata makes a little whiny sound low in his throat and squeezes Kageyama’s hand. Kageyama sighs and snuggles in tight against Hinata, and together they take in the silence of the room, the warmth of the futon, the contentedness radiating from them both.

 

Kageyama would maybe be able to fall back to sleep like this, he thinks, but it’s still snowing out and he kind of really wants to take Hinata sledding while it’s still early and quiet at the snow-laden hill near Kageyama’s apartment, which will get busy as soon as the kids are allowed outside later in the morning. He pushes himself up, ignoring Hinata’s disappointed whimper as he sits himself against the headboard and picks up his mug, sipping at the still-warm coffee and flicking through news articles on his phone with his other hand.

 

It only takes a few seconds for Hinata to roll over and press his face directly against Kageyama’s leg, his arm thrown lazy into Kageyama’s lap. He looks so cute curled into Kageyama’s thigh that Kageyama can’t help ditching his phone to stroke through Hinata’s hair, massaging the scalp as Hinata breathes soft and slow against Kageyama’s plaid pajama pants.

 

“Morning.” Hinata’s slur is hard to hear with the way he’s pressed up against Kageyama, but Kageyama feels his cheeks redden with affection just the same as he lets his fingers trail deeper down the line of Hinata’s neck.

 

“Good morning,” Kageyama replies, keeping his voice quiet. “How did you sleep?” Kageyama isn’t really sure what the protocol is for this particular conversation, the first conversation of the day with a boy he’s completely over the moon for. He doesn’t want to say anything that will jeopardize the calm atmosphere of the tiny bedroom.

 

Hinata hums. “So good,” he says, still muffled against Kageyama’s pajama pants. Kageyama feels Hinata shifting, and then a leg is being stretched and curled around his own, Hinata’s thigh resting across Kageyama’s calf as Hinata lets out a sigh and nuzzles his nose against Kageyama’s upper thigh. “I’m sleepy though. Your bed is too comfy.”

 

Kageyama strokes Hinata’s hair off of his one visible cheek and breathes deep to quell the pounding in his chest. Hinata is so pliant and relaxed, taking liberties with the way he’s cuddling Kageyama’s leg, obviously secure enough in their friendship-turned-sort-of-relationship to be vulnerable, to believe that he won’t be criticized or pushed away or reprimanded.

 

They stay like that for a few minutes, each lost in their own drowsy thoughts, before Hinata sits up and moves so his back is against Kageyama’s headboard, his head falling heavy against Kageyama’s shoulder. It makes Kageyama think of the way they used to sit on the bus together after volleyball games, or the way Hinata would sometimes nap against him during a lunch break at training camp. Hinata had always acted like it was an accident, and Kageyama had believed him as a naïve 17-year-old, but now he kind of wonders.

 

“Can you hand me my coffee?” Hinata yawns through the words and Kageyama only barely manages to interpret what he says, especially with the way Hinata’s fingers are stroking a distracting touch against Kageyama’s forearm, the contact glancing at best even as it raises goosebumps across Kageyama’s skin. He hands Hinata the coffee and goes back to sipping his own as they rest against each other in companionable silence, and then after a while, Hinata moves so he can face Kageyama, cross-legged and surrounded by a mountain of blankets that make him look soft, inviting, ethereal. He is radiant against the white of the blankets, folds of fabric cascading around him, and Kageyama takes a big swallow of coffee to avoid leaping forward and burying his face in Hinata’s stomach and curling tight across his lap.

 

Hinata finishes his coffee in silence, his eyes appraising Kageyama the whole time, both of them contemplative, at peace on a snowy Saturday morning after a night of laughter and camaraderie, the kind of hanging out that best friends do which mostly involved snacking under the kotatsu and giggling over stupid memes and falling off the map repeatedly when Hinata had bet Kageyama that he could beat him at Rainbow Road.

 

Neither of them had even completed the race, they were laughing so hard.

 

Kageyama sips at the last bit of his coffee and lets his eyes land on Hinata’s lips almost by accident, and there’s a beat between them where they’re just looking at each other. Kageyama is just about to move when Hinata leans forward so he’s crouched over Kageyama, his hand reaching out to set his coffee mug on the nightstand. Kageyama stares for a second, content to let Hinata take the initiative, but Hinata only moves forward and lets his eyelashes flutter a little like he’s sleepy and wanting, relaxed and so _bright_ here in Kageyama’s bed, and Kageyama sets his coffee down too and brings his hands up to Hinata’s sides, his palms fitting against the sweeping strokes of ribs that are just the right shape and size for Kageyama’s grip, almost like Hinata was made to fit there. Hinata’s eyes drop closed and he stutters out a breath, and Kageyama leans forward just as Hinata does, their lips pressing together, mouths slightly open and tasting of coffee, but Kageyama doesn’t care, because it’s Hinata.

 

Kageyama lets his tongue dart out to brush Hinata’s lower lip, and Hinata’s hand comes to grip the back of Kageyama’s neck as they breathe together, their lips locked tight for a moment before Hinata breaks away. He doesn’t move far, though, and they sit there with their eyes closed for a few seconds, Hinata still on his knees above Kageyama, poised like he’s making a decision. Kageyama waits for him, unfazed by the pause for deliberation. This is new territory for both of them; Hinata’s never slept over before, and aside from their initial reunion during which they’d gotten so drunk they’d just passed out under Hinata’s kotatsu, they’ve never woken up together before.

 

(When Hinata had chirped about how excited he was for their first real sleepover a few days ago, Kageyama had reminded him of that occasion, and Hinata had instantly shut him down with a “ _Bakageyama,_ that didn’t count!”)

 

Hinata is looking at Kageyama with a faraway look in his eyes, and there’s a moment where Kageyama thinks maybe Hinata is going to just go for it, but then something tells him that if Hinata is having to talk himself into doing something sex-related, they shouldn’t be doing it at all, at least not without some extensive conversation about boundaries and consent beforehand. But then Hinata seems to pull himself out of his instinct to acquiesce to whatever he thinks Kageyama wants, and Kageyama feels relief flood through him as Hinata moves back just enough to let Kageyama know that he isn’t going to force himself.

 

But still. Hinata starts looking a little guilty, which Kageyama is used to, and so Kageyama moves his hand from Hinata’s ribcage to his hip and says, “We can make out if you want. Or not. Your choice.”

 

Hinata’s eyes widen a little bit, but he remains where he is, his cheeks a little flushed and his lips a little swollen. Kageyama keeps his expression neutral; of course he’s hoping Hinata will say yes, because Hinata looks so overwhelmingly perfect lounging around in Kageyama’s bed and Kageyama wants more than anything to be as close to Hinata as is physically possible, but he would rather Hinata feel comfortable at a distance than get scared of being too close. Kageyama doesn’t want to pressure Hinata at all, and his desire isn’t even a sexual desire at all, really, just a wish for Hinata to _stay_ , because Hinata makes him laugh and sends his heart pounding away and gets his breath to catch in his throat in a way that’s somehow both reassuring and devastating at the same time.

 

“Okay,” Hinata says after a second, once he has realized that Kageyama isn’t going to push for anything. But then: “I’m sorry I don’t—I can’t have sex with you yet,” he says, and Kageyama hears the _yet_ and finds he doesn’t even care if they never do, because he’d still want to wake up every day like this with Hinata beside him.

 

“You don’t have to apologize, dumbass. That’s not how that works. I want to make out with you, but if you don’t want to, let’s not.” The words come out less gentle than he’d intended, but Hinata smiles and bites his lower lip, and Kageyama knows he’s been understood. That Hinata knows he’s not being all sour-grapes or something. That he’s being careful because he’s totally into Hinata, and he doesn’t want to do something that could hurt him.

 

“Thanks for letting me stay here even though I didn’t sleep with you,” Hinata says with a smile. “I mean, I slept in this bed with you, but not, like, _slept_ with you, like—”

 

“Dumbass, it’s fine, I wanted you here, obviously, I don’t care if we don’t have sex or whatever, you can stay here, and—” Kageyama cuts off, tilting his head. “Why are we talking? Do you want to make out with me or not?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Kageyama leans in all at once to fit his mouth against Hinata’s, the motion sending Hinata backwards so that Kageyama’s arms are the only thing keeping him from falling back onto the bed. Their tongues meet as Kageyama pulls them back to upright, Hinata’s legs splaying a little so that he’s sitting more comfortably in Kageyama’s lap. Their arms wrap around each other as their mouths meet and part and meet again, the soft smack of lips the only sound in the room.

 

Kageyama spends a few seconds licking his way into Hinata’s mouth, getting Hinata all pliant and gasping, and then he sucks Hinata’s bottom lip in between his teeth in a move that always pulls these beautiful, blissed-out sounds from the back of Hinata’s throat, and sure enough, there’s the little whimper that shoots fire through Kageyama’s veins, a rush of affection more than it is arousal, because he knows he’s made Hinata feel good and it’s heady having that kind of effect on this boy he’s at least half in love with. Hinata presses his lips harder against Kageyama’s and leans into him so Kageyama’s back hits the wall, and Kageyama tangles fingers in Hinata’s hair and tugs a little because Hinata likes that too, and for another minute or so their lips move languid, a dance to which they both know all the steps, and Kageyama remembers why he likes kissing his not-boyfriend so much.

 

But then there’s a moment where Hinata falters, his movements slowing down a little in a way that says maybe he’s feeling the nerves he sometimes gets when they’re like this, a little shock of fear that he can’t help and Kageyama knows why and doesn’t begrudge him that at all, because why would he, when instead he feels concern and knows it’s time to check in before this gets out of hand. Hinata has pushed himself before a couple of times, acting like he was okay when he really wasn’t, going all silent when Kageyama had asked for confirmation that something was okay. That’s when Kageyama had started reminding Hinata that silence does _not_ mean consent, and that he doesn’t have to feel bad for not feeling ready to move beyond fully clothed kissing.

 

Kageyama draws back. “Are you okay?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t sound as dazed as he feels.

 

Hinata sighs and looks genuine when he says, “Yeah, I’m great.”

 

“Okay. Because you seemed like you were into it, but you also seemed a little distracted. So I wanted to make sure.”

 

“Sorry, I know,” Hinata says, apologetic even though Kageyama isn’t even a little bit mad. “I was so into it, but that was…that was what made me start overthinking.”

 

Kageyama furrows his brow, intrigued more than confused. “What do you mean?”

 

“Like, I was into it, so I was thinking about how I was into it, which made me think about thinking about being into it, and then made me start wondering if I actually was into it, or maybe more like…I was afraid of being into it?” Hinata’s head tilts to the side the way it always does when he’s thinking hard about something, and Kageyama brushes his thumb across Hinata’s cheek.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“No,” Hinata says, grinning. “I want to keep making out.”

 

Kageyama hesitates.

 

“Unless you don’t want to.”

 

Kageyama moves his hands to Hinata’s hips and lets out a frustrated groan. “I want to. But I don’t want you to be scared.”

 

Hinata looks around the room for a minute before he can bring his gaze back to Kageyama’s. “I think… it was helping? Like, I felt really safe…it was more like _not_ feeling afraid was what made me nervous? But…you’re like, really patient with me, and whatever, and it’s been like six weeks and you still haven’t tried to sleep with me, which is, like, no one’s _ever_ okay with that anymore, now that we’re in our twenties and it’s not 1950 and like—”

 

Kageyama can’t help the fond grin that spreads across his face as Hinata cuts himself off, obviously trying not to go overboard. Hinata must notice how dopey Kageyama probably looks, because he starts giggling.

 

“What?” Kageyama asks, the question a little more of a snap than he had meant.

 

“You like me, you like me!” Hinata says, his voice all high-pitched and pleased. He leans forward to hug Kageyama. “I just—you actually like me, and you’re so nice and attentive and not all pressure-y, like you just want to make out with me and it’s like _fwaa_ every time because it’s so—it’s so _nnghmmh,_ you’re like—the best, Tobio!”

 

Hinata sits up and looks at Kageyama, and Kageyama can _feel_ the heat in his cheeks that says he’s totally blushing. He clears his throat. “Yeah, of course I like you, dumbass, is that what you’re having a crisis about over there?”

 

Hinata laughs, and when he tilts his chin up to expose his neck, Kageyama leans forward and sucks a bruise into the pale skin because he can’t help it, not with the way Hinata is giggling and sighing and holding Kageyama’s head against his collarbone like that. It’s all too much, and Kageyama feels his heart pound.

 

“Kageyama— _nngh, fuck, Tobio._ ” It’s a gasp of a sentence, not even really a full sentence, actually, and Kageyama wonders if this is what Hinata sounds like when he’s fucked-out and high on dopamine. Wonders what he will look like all exhausted and dazed against Kageyama’s sheets. Kageyama has never been super into sex the way most of the people he knows are, but he thinks he might like to see Hinata that way anyways, because a post-sex Hinata will surely be as beautiful as all the other Hinatas, and Kageyama wants them all.

 

They keep making out until Hinata’s stomach rumbles, and Hinata is giggling again as they pull back and look at each other.

 

“What?” Kageyama asks. Hinata kisses him one more time.

 

“Nothing. You’re just really, really cute.”

 

“Look who’s talking,” Kageyama grumbles without thinking, and then he realizes what he’s said and feels himself blush. “You want some eggs or something?”

 

Hinata nods, their foreheads rubbing together. “Okay. And more coffee.”

 

“You don’t need more coffee,” he says as he pulls Hinata into him and stands up, lifting Hinata with him and setting him down on his feet beside the bed. Hinata looks all shocked at the change in position, and it’s so adorable that Kageyama thinks he might explode.

 

“You’re so big,” Hinata says as they walk into the kitchen holding hands. “I wish I were big. Then people wouldn’t try to push me around.”

 

“People don’t push you around because you’re small. People pushing you around has nothing to do with you and everything to do with _them,_ ” Kageyama reminds him.

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Asahi-san totally used to get pushed around, and he’s, like, the biggest person ever! Except Ushijima and like everyone from Dateko and also—”

 

“Yeah, okay, got it.”

 

“And also Noya-sempai always protects him, like even still! And Noya is, like, tinier than _me!_ ” Hinata is practically jumping up and down now, and Kageyama expressly does not start making more coffee. Hinata continues: “Did you hear about that thing that happened recently where Noya and Tanaka and Asahi-san and Daichi-san and Suga went to a bar and there was this guy trying to hit on Asahi-san and Noya hated it, obviously, because like they’re practically dating, which, like, _finally,_ like it’s been years? How are they this oblivious? And—”

 

“We were also that oblivious,” Kageyama says, and Hinata splutters.

 

“We got our act together before they did! They still haven’t!” Hinata actually jumps up as he says this, and Kageyama fights back a grin. Best not to encourage an energetic Hinata.

 

“What was the rest of that story?” Kageyama asks instead, because he’s not entirely sure what the point of any of this is. Not that that’s anything new, or that he doesn’t want to hear Hinata talking his ear off even if there isn’t a point.

 

“They went to a bar and some dude was, like, super creeping on Asahi-san and Noya protected him!”

 

“That sounds like something that happened.”

 

“I’m pretty sure you just said a sentence that literally did not say anything of substance.”

 

“Dumbass, I’m just saying, like, there’s nothing to say about that because it’s so obvious, it didn’t even need to be a story—”

 

“No but Noya like didn’t even do anything crazy for once, he just led Asahi-san away from the dude and kept talking to him and whatever, like there wasn’t even any violence—”

 

“Now see, _that_ sounds like something that is out of the ordinary so why didn’t you _start with that—_ ” Kageyama says, turning to face Hinata, hoping his face doesn’t look too scary, and—

 

“ _OH MY GOD I WANT TO KISS YOU._ ”

 

Kageyama looks at Hinata for a few seconds of anticipation before he takes two steps forward and presses Hinata into the counter, their bodies flush against each other as their lips crash together in a motion made clumsy by their frantic energy, the sudden rush of need for intimacy and closeness. Kageyama’s whole body is bubbling over with affection, and Hinata is whimpering and biting at Kageyama’s lip, and Kageyama goes a little crazy and trails kissing down his neck, going back over the hickey he’d left earlier, before he returns to Hinata’s lips and bites them swollen and red.

 

“Shit,” Hinata says when they finally pause. “It’s going to be _so good._ ”

 

“What is?” Kageyama asks, his eyelids fluttering shut at the way Hinata’s hands are tugging at his hair.

 

“Sex. With us. Us having sex. We’re going to have _great sex,_ Tobio.”

 

Kageyama blushes again and thinks about how beautiful Hinata will look, about how much he wants Hinata to feel safe trusting him like that.

 

“Okay. Yeah,” he says. “Whenever. Just let me know. Shouyou.”

 

Hinata smiles and nods, and they take deep breaths together to let their heads clear. “Okay. I will. But…you don’t mind waiting? Just a little longer.”

 

Kageyama kisses Hinata’s forehead and keeps Hinata wrapped in his arms, murmuring the words into Hinata’s hair. “I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. Take all the time you need.”

 

And he really doesn’t. He _really_ doesn’t. It’s good for both of them, this building of trust and intimacy that will keep them both comfortable and happy when they decide to go further, if they decide to do that. Kageyama thinks he would be completely happy if they never did, really, because he just wants what Hinata wants. He would give Hinata the world if he could.

 

And it’s strange, he thinks, to be standing in his kitchen while the snow falls outside, his high school crush hugging him tight and whispering something into the hollow of his throat, while Kageyama contemplates giving Hinata everything.

 

But then, he thinks, it’s always been like this. There has never been a day Kageyama has not tried to give Hinata what he wanted, whether it was a bite of his lunch or a shoulder to sleep on during a long bus ride or even just a perfect toss, one that Hinata could trust. Could trust enough to hit with his eyes closed.

 

That’s what they need, Kageyama thinks, and tugs Hinata in even closer. That kind of trust, but in all things, not just in volleyball. And they’re getting there, he thinks, and kisses Hinata again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2.

 

Hinata wakes up slowly, the weight of his dreams pressing down so he’s in that hazy half-awake, half-asleep drowse that always makes him feel languid and content in a way few things can. There is snow on the outside ledge of the window, the gray of the sky signaling still more snow to come, and Hinata snuggles deeper into the soft of the mattress below him and wraps the blankets tighter around him. The room is just slightly too cold for comfort, but the heating unit in the corner is humming away, so it will get warm soon.

 

Hinata is just ducking his head down below the top edge of the duvet to go back to sleep when he feels the bed dip behind him.

 

“Hinata?” Kageyama says, his voice low as he skims a hand between Hinata’s shoulder blades and up across the back of his neck. Hinata lets out a short little hum and buries his head deeper into the blankets, and Kageyama pulls up the covers to settle in next to him and press his forehead against the line of Hinata’s spine. There are broad palms settling on Hinata’s hips, Kageyama’s long fingers pressing in against the skin of his abdomen and dragging soft under his shirt to pull Hinata in to the curve of Kageyama’s chest.

 

“Is this okay?” Kageyama asks, calm. “Silence means no,” he says, a gentle reminder that Hinata appreciates.

 

“Yes,” Hinata says, the sound a content little whimper muffled by the weight of the duvet covering his head.

 

“I made coffee,” Kageyama says, and Hinata moves his hand to tangle his fingers with Kageyama’s where they still rest against his hip. Kageyama’s leg is maneuvering its way between Hinata’s, and Hinata lets his foot hook around Kageyama’s calf muscle so his cold toes can warm up against Kageyama’s skin. “What— _dumbass_ , your toes are freezing.”

 

Hinata squeezes his fingers around Kageyama’s and whimpers again, unwilling to actually speak. Kageyama lets out a sudden little huff of air, the sigh so affectionate it almost sounds stunned. Hinata’s chest feels like it’s glowing, his happiness radiating out of him as Kageyama strokes his thumb against Hinata’s hand, the room now comfortably warm.

 

They stay like that for a few minutes, but then Kageyama pulls away and ignores Hinata’s little whine of protest as he shuffles around on the bed. Hinata is afraid Kageyama will leave, so he turns over albeit a little unwillingly, but Kageyama is only sitting up against the headboard, his phone in his right hand as he skims through the news and sips coffee out of the cup in his left hand. Hinata whines again and presses his face against the side of Kageyama’s thigh, and Kageyama sets his phone down to stroke his fingers through Hinata’s undoubtedly messy hair.

 

“Morning,” Hinata eventually manages, his voice all rough and sleepy and barely intelligible. Kageyama’s fingers tease delicious friction along his neck and up the side of his skull, the pressure so calming it tempts Hinata back towards sleep again.

 

“Good morning,” Kageyama says. “How did you sleep?” The question sounds tentative, like Kageyama isn’t really sure if he’s supposed to be asking it, and Hinata grins against the side of Kageyama’s thigh.

 

“Hmm. So good,” he says, lifting his right leg to swing his own thigh up and across Kageyama’s calf, his knee bending so his leg is curled around Kageyama’s. “I’m sleepy though. Your bed is too comfy.”

 

There’s a moment of silence where Hinata just breathes, reveling in the way Kageyama brushes hair out of his face. He stays prone for another minute or so before finally pushing himself up away from Kageyama, missing the contact for the few seconds it takes to resettle with his back against the wall, their arms pressed together as Hinata leans to rest his head on Kageyama’s shoulder. It reminds him of being on the bus after a volleyball game, the way Hinata would always sit next to the window so he could sleep against the side of the bus until finally Kageyama started tugging him over so they could sleep against each other, Kageyama insisting it was only because it made more sense for both of them to have something to lean against while they napped on the ride home.

 

Of course Hinata had never protested.

 

“Can you hand me my coffee?” Hinata asks, yawning and letting his hand trail along Kageyama’s arm in an unthinking gesture of affection. Kageyama reaches for the drink and places it in Hinata’s hand, and Hinata sits himself up just enough to sip at it. After a few minutes of silence, he feels awake enough to turn and sit cross-legged so he’s facing Kageyama, still close on the narrow futon but now able to see the portrait Kageyama makes lying in the pale sheets with his hair a little messy, his eyes clear if a little swollen from the lingering effects of a good night’s sleep. He looks so tranquil and stunning, hair dark and smooth as it brushes arched eyebrows, gray-blue eyes all heavy and half-lidded and shadowed by thick black eyelashes. He looks almost doe-like, if Kageyama could ever be something so delicate. He is wearing a slate gray shirt, his aesthetic slicing through the all-white of the room like a shadow across the wall, the juxtaposition riveting and shocking and beautiful.

 

Hinata stares at Kageyama and thinks, yeah. This is a risk worth taking.

 

Hinata moves to set the cup on the nightstand, the motion leaning him in over Kageyama until their faces are only a couple inches apart. Hinata thinks about moving back, but he doesn’t, not right away, and Kageyama just looks at him all relaxed and acquiescent, and then he sets his coffee down and brings his hands to Hinata’s sides, fingertips landing on ribs and making Hinata’s breath stutter. Kageyama sits himself up a little more to lean in as Hinata meets him halfway, their mingled breaths thick with sleep and coffee both, but it doesn’t matter how they taste when their mouths finally meet, because even if it tastes like morning breath and caffeine, it feels like _home._

 

They break apart and Hinata rests his forehead against Kageyama’s, content to just sit and breathe together. He’s still sort of awkwardly crouched over Kageyama, and he considers his options as he basks in the quiet intimacy of the moment: he can pull away now, or he can let his hips settle across Kageyama’s and allow things to progress as they will, maybe into territory they haven’t breached yet even though Hinata’s just slept over. He can indulge them in early morning arousal, the kind of sex Hinata hasn’t ever really had even if he’s heard of it, the sleepy and languid kind of sex reserved for lovers who fall asleep and wake up together, happy and insatiable with overwhelming affection and the unshakeable need to channel it somewhere.

 

But.

 

Something in Hinata says he’s not ready for that yet, just like he’s not ready for evening sex or goodnight sex or afternoon sex or shower sex or kitchen sex or any sex at all. It’s been more than a year since he’s done anything more than kissing, but he still needs more time before he tries again. Even if it means disappointing Kageyama.

 

Hinata braces himself to pull away before things can go any further, but then Kageyama moves his hand down to Hinata’s hip and squeezes against it in a little comforting brace. “We can make out if you want,” Kageyama says. “Or not. Your choice.”

 

Hinata’s heart feels like it’s cracking open, and he thinks he might cry, but in a good way, definitely. He looks at Kageyama and sees nothing but simple acceptance, of the _everything_ that Hinata is feeling and of the _nothing_ that Hinata is offering, but then maybe it’s not nothing because Kageyama’s other hand is tracing light circles against Hinata’s ribs through the fabric of his own shirt resting baggy on Hinata’s small frame, and Hinata’s eyes widen as he nods, because yeah, that’s exactly what he wants.

 

“Okay,” he says, but then just because he can’t stop the words, “I’m sorry I don’t—I can’t have sex with you yet,” he spills. Kageyama just breathes and lets his lips go soft as he blinks at Hinata.

 

“You don’t have to apologize, dumbass. That’s not how that works,” he says. “I want to make out with you, but if you don’t want to, let’s not.” His words sound harsh, a little, but Hinata can tell he’s just being respectful and considerate, gentle even if his tone doesn’t quite communicate it.

 

Luckily, Hinata can read Kageyama like a book.

 

He smiles and nods. “Thanks for letting me stay here even though I didn’t sleep with you. I mean, I slept in this bed with you, but not, like, _slept_ with you, like—”

 

“Dumbass, it’s fine, I wanted you here, obviously, I don’t care if we don’t have sex or whatever, you can stay here, and—why are we talking? Do you want to make out with me or not?”

 

“Yes,” Hinata says, and then Kageyama is kissing him, and Hinata is tipping backwards with the force of it so he has to cling to Kageyama’s shoulders to remain upright. Kageyama’s arms go tight around Hinata’s waist, one of his hands splayed between Hinata’s shoulder blades as the other reaches all the way around to hit his opposite hip, and Hinata shifts forward into the embrace so they’re almost flush against each other, only an inch of space between their hips because Hinata still isn’t sure he wants to go there. Yet. Kageyama doesn’t push; his arms stay tight on Hinata, but he doesn’t move to pull Hinata closer. Hinata breathes relief and lets his lips open just enough for Kageyama’s tongue to slip against his own.

 

Hinata shifts his hands from where they’re still gripping Kageyama’s shoulders so he can tangle one in Kageyama’s dark hair, the other automatically grasping Kageyama’s shirt when Kageyama flicks his tongue just right and sends a shock of heat through Hinata’s veins. Hinata feels dizzy with the contact, dizzier still when Kageyama pulls Hinata’s bottom lip in between his teeth and does this little suck-bite thing he knows Hinata likes, and Hinata can’t help but whimper a little bit at the feeling. He is surrounded by Kageyama, shrouded in his arms all safe from the rest of the world, like the two of them are the only beings in existence anywhere. Hinata feels safe and secure, completely at ease even in this vulnerability. It’s a heady feeling, one that Hinata has been relearning since he and Kageyama had met on that snowy evening in January, and Hinata mentally feels out the still-lingering presence of nerves in him that say he might be in danger. He reminds himself that this is okay, that Kageyama is his best friend and partner, someone who always has his back. Not someone who’s going to manipulate him or make him feel like he’s crazy.

 

Kageyama pulls away and Hinata whines, but then one of Kageyama’s arms is releasing its grip so his fingers can brush Hinata’s cheek almost like he’s trying to get Hinata’s attention, and Hinata lets his heavy eyes flick to half-open.

 

“Are you okay?” Kageyama asks, his gaze a little blissed out even if he’s obviously aiming for clarity here.

 

Hinata sighs and nods, a smile twisting his lips all dreamy and hazed. “Yeah, I’m great.”

 

Kageyama presses his forehead to Hinata’s. “Okay. Because you seemed like you were into it, but you also seemed a little distracted. So I wanted to make sure.”

 

Hinata swallows, a little tendril of guilt wrapping itself around his heart. He tries to push it away because he _knows_ Kageyama doesn’t want him to feel that way, but it’s hard. “Sorry, I know,” he says. “I was so into it, but that was…that was what made me start overthinking.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Like, I was into it, so I was thinking about how I was into it, which made me think about thinking about being into it, and then made me start wondering if I actually was into it, or maybe more like…I was afraid of being into it?”

 

Kageyama’s thumb brushes across Hinata’s cheek right below his eye. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Hinata shakes his head. “No, I want to keep making out.”

 

Kageyama looks uncertain.

 

“Unless you don’t want to,” Hinata says, leaning back a little bit. Kageyama growls a little frustrated sound and plants his hands on Hinata’s hips, scowling.

 

“I want to,” he says. “But I don’t want you to be scared.”

 

Hinata swallows. “I think…it was helping? Like, I felt really safe…it was more like _not_ feeling afraid was what made me nervous? But…you’re like, really patient with me, and whatever, and it’s been like six weeks and you still haven’t tried to sleep with me, which is, like, no one’s _ever_ okay with that anymore, now that we’re in our twenties and it’s not 1950 and like—” Hinata cuts himself off before his rambling can turn into shouting, and he realizes the coffee must be working because he’s energized and he’s pretty happy even if he’s just been complaining about the sexual practices of the modern era, and Kageyama is staring at him in equal parts concern and tentative amusement, and Hinata starts to laugh, because the expression also gives away the fact that Kageyama is entirely smitten.

 

“What?” Kageyama asks, deadpan, although there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s not actually annoyed.

 

Hinata smiles. “You like me, you like me!” The words come out in a little pleased yelp, and Hinata knows they’re completely non sequitur, but he giggles a little and tucks his face into Kageyama’s neck, hugging him. “I just—you actually like me, and you’re so nice and attentive and not all pressure-y, like you just want to make out with me and it’s like _fwaa_ every time because it’s so—it’s so _nnghmmh,_ you’re like—the best, Tobio!”

 

Hinata sits back to look at his not-boyfriend, who has gone red across his cheeks and is biting his lip like he doesn’t know how to react to any of this information.

 

Finally, he kind of clears his throat, eyeing Hinata with furrowed brows. “Yeah, of course I like you, dumbass, is that what you’re having a crisis about over there?”

 

And Hinata laughs, throwing his head back, and then Kageyama’s lips are on his neck in a nip that teases a happy yelp from Hinata. Kageyama starts sucking at the skin in earnest, so Hinata lets his fingers trace thoughtless patterns across Kageyama’s shoulders with one hand and holds Kageyama against his throat with the other, and he sighs towards the ceiling, his entire body fizzing like his blood has turned to champagne.

 

“Kageyama _—nngh, fuck, Tobio,_ ” Hinata gasps, pulling away so he can duck his head back in and press his lips to Kageyama’s. Kageyama groans and it sounds like the noise has been shocked out of him. Hinata trails kisses across Kageyama’s cheek to his ear, sucking the lobe between his teeth and biting down carefully, all soft and light to drive Kageyama crazy, and yeah, Kageyama groans again and murmurs a few expletives, his tongue always a little obscene when they’re making out like this. Hinata likes it. He wonders what will spill from Kageyama’s mouth when they do eventually go further than this, because they’re definitely going to, when they’re both ready, and it’s going to be amazing.

 

They make out for a few more minutes before Hinata’s grumbling stomach makes them pull away, their eyes hazy and their hair mussed now from kissing instead of from bedhead, and Hinata looks at Kageyama’s flushed cheeks, his half-lidded eyes, and can’t help but giggle.

 

“What,” Kageyama says, his speech too slurred to be a proper question. Hinata kisses him one more time.

 

“Nothing. You’re just really, really cute.”

 

“Look who’s talking,” Kageyama shoots back, almost like he thinks he’s issuing an insult, but then his brain catches up to his mouth and his cheeks darken even more. Hinata keeps giggling.

 

“You want some eggs or something?” Kageyama asks after another minute of them sitting with foreheads pressed together, content to sit in each other’s arms and tremble through the lingering effects of the adrenaline and serotonin saturating their veins.

 

Hinata nods. “Okay. And more coffee.”

 

“You don’t need more coffee,” Kageyama says, but he’s lifting Hinata up out of bed and setting him upright like it’s nothing, and Hinata is reminded of how much bigger Kageyama is, how tall and imposing where Hinata is still tiny and fragile.

 

“You’re so big. I wish I were big. Then people wouldn’t try to push me around,” Hinata says, tangling his fingers with Kageyama’s as they walk to the kitchen. He’s really only saying it in idle musing, but Kageyama growls a little frustrated sound and tugs Hinata along.

 

“People don’t push you around because you’re small. People pushing you around has nothing to do with you and everything to do with _them._ ”

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Asahi-san totally used to get pushed around, and he’s, like, the biggest person ever! Except Ushijima and like everyone from Dateko and also—”

 

“Yeah, okay, got it.”

 

“And also Noya-sempai always protects him, like even still. And Noya is, like, tinier than _me!_ Did you hear about that thing that happened recently where Noya and Tanaka and Asahi-san and Daichi-san and Suga went to a bar and there was this guy trying to hit on Asahi-san and Noya hated it, obviously, because like they’re practically dating, which, like, _finally,_ like it’s been years? How are they this oblivious? And—”

 

“We were also that oblivious,” Kageyama says as he starts the rice cooker, and Hinata stops rambling.

 

“We got our act together before they did! They still haven’t!”

 

“What was the rest of that story?”

 

“They went to a bar and some dude was, like, super creeping on Asahi-san and Noya protected him!”

 

“That sounds like something that happened.”

 

“I’m pretty sure you just said a sentence that literally did not say anything of substance.”

 

“Dumbass, I’m just saying, like, there’s nothing to say about that because it’s so obvious, it didn’t even need to be a story—”

 

“No but Noya like didn’t even do anything crazy for once, he just led Asahi-san away from the dude and kept talking to him and whatever, like there wasn’t even any violence—”

 

“Now see, _that_ sounds like something that is out of the ordinary so why didn’t you _start with that—_ ”

 

“ _OH MY GOD I WANT TO KISS YOU._ ”

 

They stare at each other for a few long seconds and then suddenly they’re kissing again, Kageyama pushing Hinata up against the counter and caging him in, their tongues meeting heavier and more aggressively than they had earlier in the bed, and Hinata lets out a series of little whimpers and moans and lets himself be a little bit ravaged, and he doesn’t even feel afraid.

 

They break apart and stare at each other, breaths coming in heavy pants, hair still mussed, eyes still hazy.

 

“Shit, it’s going to be _so good,_ ” Hinata says, tightening his grip in Kageyama’s hair.

 

“What is?”

 

“Sex. With us. Us having sex. We’re going to have _great sex_ , Tobio.”

 

Kageyama’s breath hitches noticeably, his ears turning red as his eyes go a little darker, his expression stunned and fucked-out even though they really haven’t done anything.

 

“Okay,” he says. “Yeah. Whenever. Just let me know. Shouyou.”

 

Hinata nods, smiling, as a little bit of clarity returns to Kageyama’s eyes. “Okay. I will. But…you don’t mind waiting? Just a little longer.”

 

Kageyama presses a kiss to Hinata’s forehead, the motion tender and soft. Kageyama’s arms are still wrapped around Hinata’s shoulders, they bodies all aligned like Kageyama is a shield keeping Hinata safe and secure, not a cage but a hideout, intended to protect and not to confine.

 

Kageyama pulls his lips away after a few long seconds. “I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. Take all the time you need.”

 

Hinata shivers at the breathiness of the tone, the sincerity which radiates from every syllable. He is shadowed in Kageyama’s arms, safe with someone who cares about him and knows him like no one else. His best friend, his partner, the other half of their dynamic duo.

 

Hinata sighs and snuggles deeper into Kageyama’s chest, and together they breathe in the cool air of the kitchen, the snow still falling softly to the ground, a blanket of white across the narrow streets, and the skeleton trees, and the houses, and Kageyama’s windowsill.


End file.
